moonlettuce: (Criminal Minds: Thomas Gibson)
Claire ([personal profile] moonlettuce) wrote2016-05-22 07:09 pm

Fic: Profile Me Like One of Your French Girls, Criminal Minds, Aaron Hotchner / David Rossi

Title: Profile Me Like One of Your French Girls
Author: Claire
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing(s): Aaron Hotchner / David Rossi
Rating: R
Word Count: 2,052
Summary: Dave asks Aaron to jerk off for him, and Aaron obliges

Profile Me Like One of Your French Girls

Aaron looks at Dave, the other man smirking as he leans back in the armchair, a glass of scotch held loosely in one hand.

"You want me to what?"

Dave just looks at him. "You heard me, Aaron." He takes a slow sip of the scotch, and Aaron knows he's drawing this out because he's enjoying it. "I want to see you jerk off for me."

It's only been a few weeks since their relationship changed, since they stepped over the line from friends to lovers, but this request, more than anything else they've done so far, has Aaron thickening behind his jeans.

He knows why, doesn't need to be a profiler to understand exactly what it is about Dave's request that has that flash of heat building in his belly. Haley hated it when he jerked off, said it made her feel like she wasn't enough for him. So he learned not to do it at home, not to do it when she was around. Whenever they were away on a case, on those nights he didn't just step out of the shower and drop into yet another hotel bed in yet another hotel room, he'd wrap his fingers around himself. If he had the time, he'd draw it out, running his fingers lightly over his balls, his hand creeping down to press against his asshole.

And now Dave wants him to do that for him, wants Aaron to let him watch. Dave knows the hot spots on Aaron's body, he's touched them, played them perfectly each time he's had Aaron laid out under him. But now he wants to see Aaron's own fingers moving over himself.

Aaron's glad that Jack's over at Jessica's tonight, that she told Aaron she'd keep her nephew for one more night so he could get some rest after the case. Aaron had mentioned it as they'd been heading back to the BAU, and gotten a sideways glance from Dave in response. Aaron hadn't needed words to know what it meant, that he'd be following Dave back to his, instead of returning to the apartment that felt so empty when Jack wasn't in it.

They'd been the last two to leave, Aaron wanting to finish the last of the reports he hadn't managed to sign off on the jet. And Dave had stood in the doorway to Aaron's office, not talking as he leaned against the frame, watching Aaron work. But he hadn't needed to talk, not when Aaron could feel the heat of Dave's gaze on him. He'd flashed back to the night at Dave's a couple of weeks previously, where they'd been laying in bed, sticky and sated, and Dave had trailed his hand down Aaron's stomach, wrapping his fingers around his softened cock.

He'd held Aaron's cock lightly in his grip as he'd started to talk, started to tell Aaron how he had thoughts of coming into Aaron's office, after everyone else had left for the day. How he wanted to blow Aaron at his desk, see if he could make SSA Aaron Hotchner lose his famed composure.

And even though Aaron knew Dave never would, that the risk of them getting caught, not only by a co-worker, but by the cameras that covered every inch of the BAU, was too high. ("Garcia would delete the footage," Dave had said. "She'd probably keep a copy. Watch it as she slid her fingers into her panties. But she'd delete it for us.")

Dave had carried on watching until Aaron had signed off the last of the reports, an easy smile on his lips as Aaron had stood up.

"Mine?" was all Dave had said, and Aaron had nodded, and followed him back to his.

Which led them here. Led to Dave lightly smirking in Aaron's direction, and Aaron throbbing hard behind his jeans at the thought of displaying himself for Dave's gaze.

"Shall we then?" Aaron asks, nodding towards the door, towards the way that leads to the bedroom.

The smile that Dave gives him is blinding. Drinking the rest of the scotch in his glass, he puts the now empty tumbler on the table and stands up. "Then, by all means, Aaron, lead the way."

Dave's bedroom is lush, all dark wood and colours that should be imposing but somehow aren't. It's dominated by the large bed, king-sized and ridiculously comfortable in a way that Aaron knows from experience.

There's an armchair against the wall, facing the bed, and Dave heads straight to it.

There's an ease of motion in Dave's body as he sits down, showing none of the tension Aaron sees in him when they're on a case. He rests a hand on his thigh as he looks at Aaron, his thumb rubbing lightly over the bulge at his jeans.

"How do you want me?" Aaron asks. "I'm in your hands." Because there's something about the thought of having Dave direct him, of having Dave's words dictate how he touches himself.

"Get naked," Dave says, after a few moments.

Aaron's been barefoot since five minutes after he walked into Dave's house because he loves curling his toes into the plush rugs Dave covers his hardwood floors with. His suit is hanging up in a bag in one of the spare bedrooms, leaving Hotchner behind in that room while Aaron emerged in soft, worn jeans and his Academy t-shirt. He's grateful for his love of Dave's rugs, because there's no sexy way to toe off shoes and remove socks.

And even though this isn't exactly a striptease he's about to perform, Dave's mentioned more than once how much he enjoys watching Aaron take his clothes off, watching as each layer is peeled off to reveal what's underneath. There's not much to remove this time, it's not like Aaron is wearing his suit, not like Dave is watching jacket, then tie, then shirt all taken off piece by piece. He pulls his t-shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor. He doesn't stop the smile from coming to his lips as Dave's gaze moves over Aaron's stomach, his eyes following the dark trail of hair that leads into Aaron's jeans.

Dave enjoys tracing that trail with his tongue, pressing kisses down over Aaron's stomach until he reaches his cock. Aaron presses fingertips lightly against his stomach, drawing Dave's gaze as he moves them down until they're at his jeans. He pops open the buttons one by one and releasing some of the pressure against his hard cock.

"God, Aaron," Dave says. "I love that you're hard for this, for the thought of jerking off for me."

He's not the only one. He can see the way Dave's jeans are straining.

Hooking his fingers into both his jeans and his boxers, he eases them over his hard cock, sliding them down his legs. He steps out of them, nudging them to the side with his foot, and standing naked in front of Dave.

"Sit on the bed," Dave tells him.

Aaron walks to the foot of the bed, sitting down. It puts him only a few feet away from Dave, and he wonders what Dave's thinking right now. Whether he's remembering the last time Aaron was sitting in this position on the bed. Remembering the way Dave kissed his way up Aaron's thigh, the way he sucked Aaron's cock while he slipped slick fingers into Aaron's body.

Aaron spreads his legs further apart, opening himself up fully to Dave's view. "You want me to touch myself, Dave? Tell me how."

Dave licks at his lower lip, like he's trying to work up the ability to speak. "Stroke your dick; start slow." His voice is rough, and Aaron feels a flush of satisfaction inside him, knowing that he's the one that's causing this.

Wrapping his fingers around his cock, Aaron starts to jerk himself slowly. It's too dry and there's the drag of skin against skin. Brushing his thumb over his cockhead, Aaron uses some of his precome to ease the glide.

"That's it," Dave murmurs, his voice almost too low for Aaron to hear.

Aaron keeps the slow, steady pace, forcing himself not to go faster. His cock is thickening even further in his hand, and Aaron can feel the easy pulses of pleasure running through him with each stroke.

"Speed up," Dave tells him, adding a "not too fast," when Aaron apparently goes too fast for his liking.

Aaron rubs his thumb over the head of his dick with each stroke, gathering more precome each time. There's the wet sound of slick skin, Aaron's touches speeding up slightly, even though Dave hasn't told him to.

If Dave notices, he doesn't say anything, doesn't tell Aaron to slow down. He lets Aaron continue to stroke before, "Cup your balls."

Aaron moves his free hand down, gently rolling his balls in his fingers before cupping them lightly.

"You feel that, Aaron?" Dave asks. "Feel how full they are for me. How much there's going to be when you finally come."

His balls twitch as Aaron gently runs his fingers over them.

Dave's just too far away for Aaron to tell for definite if Dave's eyes are following the way his fingers are softly petting at his balls, but if he knows Dave, then he's sure the answer will be that he is. Because Aaron knows that Dave watches him, knows that Dave enjoys watching him. And, if Aaron's honest with himself, he enjoys it as well. He likes the small flash of pleasure he gets when Dave notices he's wearing a new tie. Likes the bigger flash of pleasure that hits when Dave leans closer and tells him that he wants to see the tie wrapped around Aaron's wrists, tying them together so Aaron can't touch him while Dave sucks his cock.

Dave's hand is rubbing over his crotch as Aaron continues to jerk himself, still going at the steady pace Dave dictated, low moans coming from him with each stroke.

"God, Aaron, do you have any idea how you sound?" Dave's voice breaks in the middle, and Aaron knows that he's not as unaffected as he's trying to appear.

"How you doing over there, Dave?" The words are half laughed and half groaned.

There's a huff of breath, Dave muttering something Aaron can't hear, and then, "Fuck, Aaron. I want you to come for me."

Aaron's hand speeds up before Dave's even finished talking. He's jerking himself roughly, stripping his cock as he twists his wrist in just the way he likes. There's a wave of heat building in his balls, and he can feel it rising in him.

"Dave--"

"Come on, Aaron. Do it. Come for me." Dave's voice is low, breathy, and his hand is pressing against the bulge at his jeans.

Aaron's jerking faster and faster, and he can feel it, just out of reach. Can feel it getting closer, his balls tightening. He can hear Dave's breath, low and harsh, the words coming from him urging Aaron to come.

And all it takes is one more "That's it--", one more "Aaron--", and Aaron's coming, the pleasure bursting in him as he spills hot and white over his hand, splatters landing on his thigh and dripping onto the floor.

Dave groans and Aaron opens his eyes from where they've closed to see him pushing hard and sharp against his denim covered cock, Aaron's name falling from his lips. And Aaron recognises the look on Dave's face, he's spent many hours pulling that face from him.

Dave shudders as he comes, a dark patch appearing on his jeans and spreading slowly. Aaron smiles, easy and sated, at the knowledge that he just made Dave come. David Rossi, who keeps his composure in the face of the most terrible things that they see and hear each day, coming in his jeans like a teenager because of Aaron.

"What are you smiling at?" Dave asks, his voice quiet.

"Nothing," Aaron replies.

Dave's eyes narrow before relaxing. And, yeah, Dave knows exactly why Aaron's smiling. "You're not the only profiler in this relationship, you know," Dave comments, humour in his voice. "I can read you like a book."

Yes, Aaron thinks, yes you can. And, somehow, he's just fine with that.